Wind at My Back
by Eccentric1
Summary: A bit of peace near a stream back in the Shire. Sam and Frodo converse. Comfort on October 6th. Tragic goodbyes; new beginnings. Yeah. It’s kinda like that.


Wind at My Back Characters/Pairing; Sam, Frodo (Merry, Pippin) Genre: Drama; angst ; first-person (Frodo) Setting: Middle-earth; Near End of Book 6, ROTK Summary: A bit of peace near a stream back in the Shire. Sam and Frodo converse. Comfort on October 6th. Tragic goodbyes; new beginnings. Yeah. It's kinda like that.  
  
Yes, I have returned to my homeland again. The Ring has been destroyed and my only visible wound is my finger, having been hacked off by Gollum at Mount Doom.  
  
My only visible wound. I am afraid the others. The others may never heal. They are part of my fate and I will carry their burden even to the grave. I lay awake in the auras of candles and moonlight, streaming through my window. But this is what I have been doing for the last few hours. No matter, I cannot sleep. The Eye no longer rests its fiery gaze upon me through night and day as It had before.but still. I need to find some type of peace, something to temporarily reduce my pain, both inner and exterior.  
  
* * * The stream greets me with its soft gurgle as I sit down upon the soft, cool grass, appearing almost silvery in the aura of the full moon. Merry and Pippin are there, as I had expected them to be. "Ah, Mr. Baggins! Come to join us, have you?" Merry's voice pipes up in almost too loud of a tone. "Yes," I reply, sighing quietly. "I could not find the will to sleep. Even after the journey." "Can't sleep, eh?" Pippin speaks in his relatively high, young tone. "Well, what a coincidence! Neither can we!" "Hush, Peregrin! It is not that great of a coincidence!" Merry reprimands his cousin. His voice attempts to sound somewhat harsh, but the endeavor is futile, for I can see his grin, even through the course of the darkness. "Well, sometimes, I suppose, Meriadoc, you just have to break the rules!" And within that gloom of the night, our laughter brings forth a light and even the slightest ember of cheerfulness can be felt burning in my heart once again.  
  
* * *  
  
I sleep late the next day, in order to make up for my means of talking late into the preceding night. And though the date is patent and depressing, I try to almost avoid the fact and not wallow in the sorrow of such things. I do not feel like dressing in all of my proper, usual garments, so I slip on a light tunic and moderately short, suede slacks. I sit in my room and reminisce for a long while on many things. Things, as Galadriel had said, of the past, present, and some things that have yet to come. I know that though Lady Arwen bestowed unto me her white jewel, promising me peace when I am disturbed of events of the past, it does not mean I will live as long as she. An Elven kind. I know that if I, one of the last Ringbearers, do not cross over to the Havens, that to dwell here would promise only the death of me. The death of me. The words reverberate through the walls and chasms of my innermost mind. To die is to fail all you have known. Would that mean. Yes. I would let down Sam. In both ways. We would be separated. And even if I did not choose to die and cross over the Havens, he would follow me after a few years, since he is one of the Ringbearers. He stayed beside me until the end. But what if he didn't want to follow this time? And the last thing I want is for him to wander the rest of his days on this earth alone. But he has Rose. But she, too, will die. And most likely before him. Oh, God. Please. Have mercy on him. My friend of friends. My. "Frodo?" A voice jars me out of my trance. I look up to meet the eyes of the one whose voice is speaking, and I find it is. Sam. "Are you all right, sir?" He says, standing up straight with a concerned look of servitude upon his face. "You have after all sat in here most of the day." He sits down beside me and I can see the forlorn look in his eyes. He looks deep into my face and still, my eyes are somewhat swollen and skin much more pale. He reaches out as if to move a temperate hand across my face, but I turn away too soon. This is one of the first times I have truly let my feelings show in front of him. "There is nothing more for me now, Sam," I whisper. "You know I should have been long dead today." He looks at me, pretending not to comprehend what I am saying, but I nod towards the calendar. The date is the dreadful October 6th. The day I was stung by Shelob and stood upon the threshold of death. "Then I should have been long dead today, as well, you know." Sam speaks somewhat forcefully, but his voice cracks in hurt tones as he finishes. "I could not live without you. It would've been the death of the both of us." I turn to face him, unashamed of the tears that have been rolling down my cheeks for the last few moments. And as if I am a child again, I lean into Sam's consoling embrace. "The journey is over. It's all right, all right." Sam whispers. "It is me, Sam, isn't it? Oh. I feel I have a million sorries to give," I sob. "What have you done to me that would make you think that? I can't think of anything you have done wrong. you must understand, it was only that damned Ring that caused you all that pain." "But It made me take everything out on you! Can't you see!" I pulled away from the loving embrace of my long-known comrade and looked him in the eyes with a longing that couldn't be matched. "I yelled at you of Smeagol because I already saw myself in him! I was becoming him! Corrupted, and unsure of what was and wasn't real. Like you."  
  
My breathing is abruptly short and raspy. I fall onto the bed again and my head lands in Sam's lap. He takes one of my hands in his and kisses it, as he had done so many times on the journey to comfort me, as the gesture still does. I know that he has Rose, but the sensation of his kiss on my hand is quite pleasant. I sit up, my tears having dried naturally and look deeply into Sam's eyes. His hazel find mine blue. I have the instinct to embrace him this time, try to requite at least some of the numerous things he has done for my sake, but I know that at such a time as this, it would not be appropriate. I stand up shakily and turn away from him. He reaches to steady me, but I lightly push his hand away. "I'm sorry, I suppose.I just need some time alone," I speak in a voice just above a whisper. I leave Sam in the room by himself, but as I leave, I am almost surprised he does not make any indications of coming after me. Is that the way he will act also when I depart from his world?  
  
* * *  
  
The day of my departure has finally come. Sam has been acting quite melancholy all day and it pains my heart to see him that way. When evening falls, and it is time for us to take our leave, I tell Sam to ride alongside my pony on his own. We ride at a steady trot the entire time, but neither of us utter a word. What is there to say after all we have been through? I know there must be something, but it is not coming to me. We reach the docks and there, is an elegant ship awaiting Bilbo and me to board. Twilight glistens on the horizon and pale stars begin to emerge in the eternal void of deep blue above us. We dismount our ponies and I see that everyone is there; Gandalf, Galadriel, Merry, Pippin, and Sam, of course. I am being beckoned aboard but I give Bilbo the sign to 'wait just a moment.' I turn to Sam and it is evident that he is crying. I entwine one of his hands in my own and kiss it. I nod ever so slightly with a faint grin, even though my eyes, also, are stinging with the tears of goodbye. "Returning the favor," I breathe simply. A bit too simply. Couldn't I have said something a little more intelligible? Deep? It seemed too late now; the silence was nerve-wracking and I felt as though I was being pressured.and the only way to escape the pressure was to leave this place and depart into the next. I turned away, began to step up the ramp onto the ship.but. "And Pippin," I turned to face my cousin with the faintest smile. "Remember.break the rules." He grins tearfully back at me and nods, as if assenting, saying, 'Go and find peace.' I turn away again, for the last time. The passage of entry is closed and I stand on the promenade deck, watching the moon rise ever so slowly to its zenith as we sail into the great beyond of the Grey Havens. The place where I would seek and find life, without the quandaries and ache of old wounds. But also, the place where I would dwell without my friends. the one thing, here, I could seek and not find. Never knowing what would come of them or the rest of the fellowship, until Sam would come to follow me after the passing of a few decades. I can only suppose I will have to, sooner or later, turn my back from the cold winds of my past life, and confront the sun of the new.  
  
May the road rise to meet you, And the wind be always at your back. .May God keep you in the palm of His hand, until we meet again. 


End file.
